


Winter's Persuasion

by ArianaFandoms



Series: Winter's Persuasion [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes - Freeform, Communist Europe, Contains AU elements, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, I'm playing around with Communist Europe's history to make the plot and characters work, James "Bucky" Barnes - Freeform, James Buchanan Barnes - Freeform, Mutant (as in X-Men) characters, Pairing isn't what it seems in the beginning, Sebastian Stan - Freeform, Took inspiration from both the comics and films, Warning: Anti-Soviet Content, slow-burn, winter soldier - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-07-17
Packaged: 2018-07-15 00:37:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7198235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaFandoms/pseuds/ArianaFandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ilona Farkas was sent to East Germany to investigate Hydra's new facility, she had no idea she was building the foundations of a relationship that would take thirty years to come to fruition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I've fallen into yet another fandom... Sorry, not sorry? Due to my hiatus from writing, updates may come more slowly in the beginning, until I get back into the swing of things (e.g., the first chapter took me five days to write). But I'm super excited about this story and the OFCs, so it will get written and posted, no matter what. 
> 
> As I stated in the tags, this story contains anti-Soviet content. That was just the sentiment in that time period. I have extensively researched communist Europe during the 1980s and have done my best to make the story's plot and characters fit with the facts. Nevertheless, I took advantage of the ambiguities in the history of communist Europe to make my story work. 
> 
> Lots of languages make an appearance in this story, but the only ones I speak fluently are English and Hungarian. I am conversational in German and am learning Romanian, but I had to research exactly how to write some of the phrases. I do not speak Russian or any of the other languages that may appear. For all non-English dialogue, assume that the characters continue speaking in that language, unless otherwise stated. If I wrote something wrong/awkwardly, I'm sorry and please let me know so that I can correct it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More like a prologue than a chapter.

_January, 1983_

_Leipzig, East Germany_

Snow crunched underfoot as Ilona Farkas glanced around the corner of one of the many factories lining the industrial street of Leipzig's Gohlis district. The area was largely abandoned, though a few unsavory characters milled about, indulging in smoke breaks during their night shift. Taking a final drag of her own cigarette, Ilona crushed it under her boot and set off towards a nondescript building.

The dilapidated, gray building looked nearly identical to the others on the street, but appearances were deceiving. It housed some of the most dangerous secrets in communist Europe. Secrets that Ilona Farkas was determined to learn.

As she neared the factory, she felt eyes on her, tracking her movements, though she didn't know where her observers were. A man in oil-stained overalls leaned against the door, with a misshapen cigarette between his fingers. He appraised her and cocked his head towards the entrance.

" _Feuer_?"

Ilona reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a lighter. While the man lit his cigarette, she discreetly showed him her identification papers, and then she was waved through the door. The building masqueraded as a Trabant manufacturing factory, but it was really one of Hydra's newly acquired facilities. The Hungarian Counter-Soviet Agency, or HCSA, had been monitoring the other Soviet satellite states since the Iron Curtain formed in 1945, so, when they learned that Hydra had traded its Nazi allies for communist ones, they sent agents into every Soviet-ruled country to investigate. East Germany's government was merely the latest to be infiltrated by Hydra.

And Ilona Farkas had been dispatched to learn the true purpose of the Leipzig facility. She was an effective undercover agent--fluent in German and Russian, trained in several combat styles, and able to bluff her way into the heart of Hydra. Although her Hydra identification papers were issued under a false name, they were as real as her HCSA ID, so they enabled her to move in and out of Hydra bases without arousing suspicion.

She walked through the massive, front room of the building, which did indeed look like an automobile manufacturing plant. All the necessary equipment was there, and half-completed cars lurched down an assembly line. But Ilona knew the good stuff was on the higher levels. Hydra agents nodded at her as she passed, and she took the steps two at a time to the second floor.

Rooms with filing cabinets greeted her, which she ignored for the moment. Instead, she climbed higher, until the archives gave way to labs on the fourth floor. Entering the first lab she came across--a small one with only one scientist working in it--, she surreptitiously surveyed the interior, making note of the surveillance cameras and their coverage. She took up position in one of blind spots.

During her decade-long service with HCSA, Ilona had seen the terrifying potential of Hydra's scientific inventions, but she had never been baffled by them. Now, however, staring at the plastic IV bags filled with blue fluid, she could not comprehend their significance.

" _Du_ ," she said suddenly, addressing the scientist. He looked up from his microscope, a scowl on his face at being interrupted. " _Genossen Borodin möge ein Lagebericht über ihre Fortschritte._ "

The scientist scoffed and returned to his research. " _Und wer_ _vom Teufel_ _bist du, kleines Mädchen?"_

Before the scientist realized she was moving towards him, Ilona had smashed his face into the microscope. She grabbed him by his hair to force him to look at her.

" _Sag mir_ ," she hissed. " _Jetzt._ "

The scientist cursed at her, one hand cupped to catch the blood dripping from his nose, but complied with her order to talk.

"We've improved upon the serum so that the soldiers are no longer unpredictable. As Comrade Borodin knows," he said, shooting Ilona a glare, "the prototype requires a series of trigger words to become active, and he is uncontrollable by anyone except the ones who speak the trigger words. We've fixed that defect. The new serum makes the super soldiers much more stable."

Ilona nodded, though she still did not have the full picture.

"And how many super soldiers can this new and improved serum produce?"

"As many as Comrade Borodin requires."

The scientist flashed her another glare, and she released her grip on his hair. She nodded again, then turned on her heel, her thoughts in chaotic disarray. Super soldiers. Her superiors had assumed that the Leipzig facility was manufacturing weapons, but they'd had no idea those weapons were _humans_. Or, superhumans, rather.

There was a prototype, obviously the first super soldier Hydra had created. Ilona had to find him, but she doubted he was in Leipzig or even in East Germany. The USSR, then. To be certain, though, she would have to pay a visit to the archives on the lower levels.

Before she left the lab, she tucked a vial of the blue serum into the inner breast pocket of her coat.

" _Für die Genossen_ ," she explained, fixing the scientist with a steely gaze. But she needn't have, because his nose still smarted, and he wisely did not question her.  

Ilona descended one floor to the archives, breathing a quiet sigh of relief when she glimpsed only a single Hydra agent inside. It seemed that the night shift had a lighter staff than the day shift. Once again, she assessed the room, the cameras in the corners, and their unobstructed view of the filing cabinets. That could be a problem.

" _Ich brauche Akten für Genosse Borodin auf dem verbeßerten Supersoldaten Programm_."

The agent glanced up at her from the manila folder she was flipping through.

"Comrade Borodin already has them," the agent replied, narrowing her eyes in suspicion. "Who are you again?"

Ilona showed the agent her ID. "He has the old files," she said, "but I just spoke to our scientists, and they've made more progress on the new super soldier serum. Comrade Borodin wants those files."

The agent watched Ilona, alert for any tic or expression that would betray a lie, but Ilona remained cool and composed under the scrutiny. Finally, the agent sighed.

"Over there," she said, pointing to a filing cabinet on the other side of the room, in full view of one of the cameras.

"Show me," Ilona commanded.

The Hydra agent rolled her eyes but joined Ilona at the cabinet. Ilona positioned herself so that the agent was blocking her from the camera's view. Sorting through the drawer, the agent pulled out a stack of folders labeled in both Russian and German.

"These are all the folders, but, like I said, the Comrade already knows the information in most of them."

Meeting the agent's gaze, Ilona whispered, "You will find the files about the prototype, too."

As if on autopilot, the agent handed Ilona a manila folder, the title of which sent a chill up her spine.

зимний солдат.

 _Zimniy Soldat_.

Winter Soldier.

Swallowing her dread, Ilona glanced at the agent again and tucked the folders inside her coat.

"I did not take the folders on the super soldiers," she told the agent. "I looked through them here, requested a copy of the files, and gave them back to you. Do you understand?"

The agent nodded, and, Ilona, satisfied, strode from the archives. She wasted no more time looking around the facility. She had a plane to Budapest to catch.                        

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of foreign-language names and words in this chapter.
> 
> 1\. **Ilona Farkas** (EE-low-nah FAHR-kuhsh). Ilona is the Hungarian equivalent of Helen, and Farkas is Hungarian for "wolf".
> 
> 2\. **Feuer** is German for "fire" or, in this case, "light" (for a cigarette).
> 
> 3\. **Trabant** was an East German (so, communist) car that was shipped to many other countries in the Soviet Bloc (including Hungary).
> 
> 4\. **Du. Genossen Borodin möge ein Lagebericht über ihre Fortschritte** is German for "You. Comrade Borodin wants an update on your (plural) progress."
> 
> 5\. **Und wer vom Teufel bist du, kleines Mädchen?** is German for "And who the devil/hell are you, little girl?"
> 
> 6\. **Sag mir. Jetzt** is German for "Tell me. Now."
> 
> 7\. **Für die Genossen** is German for "For the Comrade."
> 
> 8\. **Ich brauche Akten für Genosse Borodin auf dem verbeßerten Supersoldaten Programm** is German for "I need files for Comrade Borodin about the improved super soldier program."
> 
> 9\. **зимний солдат. Zimniy Soldat** are Cyrillic and transliterated Russian, respectively, for "Winter Soldier."


	2. Stairwell Scuffle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilona meets the Winter Soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious how I imagined Ilona to look, check out "Winter's Persuasion Images" in my list of works. 
> 
> More foreign languages in this chapter. Translations in the end note. Again, I only speak English and Hungarian fluently, so the Russian may or may not be totally correct. I apologize for that.

_Budapest, Hungary_

Whenever Ilona returned home, she was struck by the stark difference between Hungary and East Germany. Poverty was a standard of Sovietism, but, in the 1980s, it was much more pronounced in the GDR than in her country. Prior to the war, Berlin was a bustling and wealthy metropolis, full of culture and history. The Allied bombings had taken their toll, but as West Berlin slowly rebuilt and regained its splendor, East Berlin stagnated in communist mire. It earned the dubious honor of being the home of the Stasi, arguably the most terrifying of all the communist intelligence agencies.

Gratitude was not a common emotion in the Soviet satellite states, but Ilona felt it every time her plane touched down in Budapest.

" _Sikerült?_ "

The question pulled Ilona from her thoughts, and she looked up as her superior sat down across from her. Mariana Almássy was a formidable woman, not only because she was head of the Hungarian Counter-Soviet Agency. She towered over many of her male colleagues and had been one of the deadliest spies in the HCSA. New recruits still whispered about her assassination of Mátyás Rákosi's right hand man.

 _"Sikerült_ ," she replied, handing Mariana the folders from the Leipzig facility. While Ilona spoke, Mariana read through the files. " _A fájlok szerint, Hydra már rég óta--egészen a második világ háború óta--gyárt szuperkatonákat."_   She pulled the vial of blue serum from her coat pocket and set it on the table. " _Ezzel a szérummal hozzák létre őket."_

"The prototype," said Mariana, "this Winter Soldier." She glanced up at Ilona, her expression inscrutable. "He's responsible for the assassinations of József Dudás and even John F. Kennedy."

"Yes. Both were vocal anti-communists, but Hydra is not, by definition, a communist organization," Ilona pointed out. "So why were Dudás and JFK deemed such high-level targets?"

"They were set to change the status quo in their respective countries," Mariana explained. "Had either one of them lived, he would've enacted changes that would have weakened communism and therefore Hydra."

"Right," said Ilona, understanding, "because after the defeat of Nazi Germany, Hydra got its support from the Soviet Union."

Mariana nodded, and her tone grew even more somber than usual.

"Now that we know about the existence of the super soldiers, we believe the Soviets are going to use them for another assassination."

Ilona met Mariana's stormy gaze. The older woman was nigh unflappable. If something had managed to unsettle her, it was a serious matter indeed.

"Who?"

"Imre Pozsgay."

" _Jézusom_ ," breathed Ilona. "If Pozsgay is killed, Hungary will be like East Germany."

"Which is what Hydra and the Soviet Union want," Mariana affirmed. "Even as Minister of Culture, Pozsgay has been slowly swaying public opinion against Sovietism, and now he's been earmarked as the next MP. We need to intercept the Hydra assassin." She pointed at Ilona. " _You_ need to."

"Do we know when Hydra is planning to strike?"

"Our asset in Moscow believes it will happen within the week," Mariana said. "Tail Pozsgay, keep an eye on him, but _don't_ be seen. Meanwhile, our scientists will examine the super soldier serum." Ilona nodded and stood. Mariana followed suit, stopping the younger woman from leaving with a hard look and a hand on her arm. "You cannot fail, Ilona."

The agent smiled grimly. "When have I ever?"

#

The road was quiet, lined with trees and dominated by Neo-Renaissance mansions that had been repurposed as multi-family homes in the 1950s. The sleepy neighborhood was not an ideal place for a fight, but neither, for that matter, was a busy street.

Ilona hated stake-outs. They were dull, tiresome, and mind-numbing, which was a dangerous combination when one had to prevent a super soldier from murdering an important member of the Hungarian Politburo.

That confounded Ilona. For thirty-eight years, the HCSA had been clandestinely working _against_ the Soviets, both domestically and internationally, gradually chipping away at their influence. And now one of their best agents was sitting in a car on Rippl-Rónai Street, peering through binoculars at an apartment building across the street, to _protect_ a communist. She scowled, not appreciating the irony.

While she waited for her target to exit the building, she thought. There was nothing else to do, and the circumstances certainly warranted consideration. A counter-soviet agency was about to save a communist. But this particular communist was nearly as anti-Soviet as the HCSA was, and he was in a position to change Hungary's lot for the better. The reforms he'd enacted as Minister of Culture alone had been enough to rankle the Kremlin into ordering his death. So Ilona would do her damndest to ensure Pozsgay lived to become MP. He was the first step to her country finally deposing its Soviet overlords.

"Communism makes for strange bedfellows," she muttered, unwrapping her _téliszalámi_ sandwich and taking a large bite of it, "including communists themselves."

The next three days passed in much the same way. Ilona would alternate day and night shifts with another agent, discreetly following Imre Pozsgay wherever he went, from walking his children to school in the morning to his meetings with the Politburo. The HCSA had undercover agents in the Politburo who took over surveillance while Pozsgay was at work. That was when Ilona stretched her legs and restocked her supplies.

It was during one of those breaks that she caught sight of the Winter Soldier. Parked in her usual spot outside Pozsgay's apartment building, Ilona was changing the radio station, when a sudden chill ran down her spine. On instinct, she glanced towards the building. The sun had set hours ago, so only the wan light of a street lamp illuminated the surrounding area. Through the binoculars, she saw a man, bedecked in black, enter Pozsgay's house.

Ilona grabbed her gun and sprinted across the street to follow the assassin inside. Pozsgay wasn't home yet, but his family was, which sent another chill down her spine. It was a favorite method of the Soviets to punish an entire family for one person's "crimes." Although the HCSA had deemed Pozsgay's wife and children as acceptable, albeit regrettable, collateral damage, Ilona had always been a bit soft-hearted. Mariana considered it a weakness, but Ilona stubbornly clung to it.

Just as she stubbornly clung to the door knob as the front door was ripped from its hinges. On the other side stood the Winter Soldier, in all his fearsome splendor. His face was half-concealed by a mask covering his nose and mouth, and his eyes were smudged with black camouflage war paint, but Ilona nevertheless recognized him from his file. She was granted an instant to observe him, before his arm shot out.

Ilona ducked and landed a kick to his abdomen that had no effect on him. She dodged his next attack, as well, aiming her gun at his head. He avoided the bullets with super-human reflex and was on her in the blink of an eye, his left fist connecting with her stomach. Reeling back, Ilona felt the air _whoosh_ out of her lungs, and she bit back a groan of pain. Had she been able to think clearly, she would have realized that he'd punched her with his metal arm. But in her dazed state, the only things she was capable of doing were leaning against the wall and clutching her bruised midsection.

It was the Makarov pistol aimed at her head that finally brought clarity. Ignoring the throbbing in her gut, she pushed off from the wall, gaining enough momentum to wrap her legs around the super soldier's waist and use them to flip herself up and over his torso. With her thighs bracketing his head, she sat securely atop his shoulders and squeezed. His hands instantly locked on her hips, trying to dislodge her, but Ilona sent her knee into his face, breaking his nose and distracting him so that she could tighten her legs around his neck. The man may be physically enhanced, but even super soldiers needed oxygen. If she could hold on long enough, he would fall unconscious from hypoxia.

But the fight was over before it had really begun. No matter how strong her thighs were or how fiercely she attacked him, the Winter Soldier pulled her off him as if she were a rag doll. His bionic hand wrapped around her neck, lifting her off the ground. Dangerous, blue eyes, ringed in black, stared back at her, and he watched her green eyes for signs of her impending suffocation.

Then a hand was touching his cheek.

" _Vy ne tolko Zimniy Soldat_ ," Ilona wheezed. " _Vvy James Buchanan Barnes. Amerikanskiy."_ The assassin's grip tightened just slightly, prompting her to switch to English. "Y-you don't want to hurt me."

His eyes widened, losing their cold glint, and he was suddenly very aware of the delicate flesh beneath his metal palm. Releasing Ilona, the assassin stumbled back, gasping for breath, as if he'd been the one nearly strangled to death.  He was taking in his surroundings, his panicked gaze flicking between the stairwell and the woman slumped against the far wall, with a hand-shaped bruise on her neck.

Ripping off the half-mask, he touched the drying blood on his upper lip, tracing its origin to his broken nose. A gun with a silencer lay on the ground, and two spent bullet casings sat nearby. He stared at Ilona.

"James," he murmured, testing the name on his tongue. "Not James." A faraway look replaced the panic in his eyes, and his features softened. "My name is Bucky."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. **Sikerült?** is Hungarian for "Were you successful?" 
> 
> 2\. **Mariana Almássy** is Hungarian (obviously) and is pronounced MAH-ree-ah-na (with the _r_ rolled) AHL-mahhh-shee (the _á_ makes a sound roughly like the "ahhh" when a doctor tells you to open your mouth. Or, like the _i_ in "like", but with less of a _y_ sound)
> 
> 3\. **Mátyás Rákosi** was the leader of the Hungarian communist party in the 1940s-1950s. He was one of the most hardliner communists and even called himself "Stalin's best Hungarian disciple." An American journalist described him as "the most malevolent character" he'd ever met "in political life."
> 
> 4\. **Sikerült. A fájlok szerint, Hydra már rég óta--egészen a második világ háború óta--gyárt szuperkatonákat. Ezzel a szérummal hozzák létre őket** is Hungarian for "I was successful. According to the files, Hydra has been engineering super soldiers since the second World War, using this serum."
> 
> 5\. **József Dudás** was a prominent Hungarian revolutionary during the 1956 uprising against the Soviets. He was captured, imprisoned, and later killed by the Soviets. I obviously embellished his death a little. 
> 
> 6\. **Imre Pozsgay** was a Hungarian communist, who really did speak out against Sovietism. He may not have been the Winter Soldier's target, but everything else is true.
> 
> 7\. **Jézusom** is Hungarian for "Jesus."
> 
> 8\. **Téliszalámi** is the most famous and popular type of Hungarian salami, translated literally as "winter salami" (no pun intended). 
> 
>  9. **Vy ne tolko Zimniy Soldat. Vvy James Buchanan Barnes. Amerikanskiy** is transliterated Russian for "You're not only the Winter Soldier. You're James Buchanan Barnes. American."


	3. Safe House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like the chapter title hints, Ilona takes Bucky to a safe house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you to everyone who is following and kudo-ing this story. xo
> 
> I have good news and bad news. Bad news: at 1522 words, this chapter is pretty short. It was originally much longer, but then I realized that the first half was written from Bucky's perspective and the second half from Ilona's, and head-jumping is a literary no-no, so I cut it at Bucky's POV. Good news: As a result, a lot of chapter 4 is already written.

_I don't know who I am. Am I even human? Every night I sell my soul._ -"I'm a Mess" The Rasmus

They watched each other, assessing, Ilona's posture tense, while Bucky's relaxed slightly. The ginger woman standing before him, with one hand supporting herself against the wall, was of average height, but his trained eye noticed the corded muscles beneath her clothes. Although she'd put up a good fight--as good a fight as anyone had--, the Winter Soldier had easily bested her.

He glanced at the ugly, hand-shaped bruise on her neck again.

"I'm sorry," he rasped, meeting her gaze for a split-second, before he stared at the door he'd ripped from its hinges. Yet more evidence of the destruction that the Winter Soldier--that _he_ \--had caused.

The sound of sirens in the distance seemed to alert her to the precariousness of their situation. Ilona gathered up the guns and spent bullet casings, then nodded in the direction of the street.

"Not here," she said, in accented English. "Safe house."

She began walking towards one of the cars parked along the sidewalk, but Bucky didn't immediately follow her. With furrowed brows, he continued to observe her. She clearly knew who he was, had obviously been sent by _someone_ to stop him from assassinating Imre Pozsgay, yet, instead of killing him (not that she could), she intended to take him with her. Either she was very stupid, which he didn't believe, or she was certain he would no longer hurt her.

Bucky snorted. Well, at least one of them had confidence in him.

When she looked back at him over her shoulder, he finally jogged to catch up with her. She led him to an FSO Polonez and tossed the guns and bullet casings in the back. All the while, she remained cognizant of her surroundings, her attention flitting from the houses to the cars on Rippl-Rónai Street. He knew why.

"You're breaking protocol."

Ilona slid into the driver's seat, sparing Bucky a glance before starting the car. She pulled away from the curb and turned right onto Andrássy Avenue.

"Why?"

"Because I can't kill you," she replied, "but I also can't let the Soviets have you."

"They'll just send another like me to finish the job," he pointed out flatly.

She turned left onto Bajcsy-Zsilinszky Street, then right onto a road that would take them across the white Elizabeth Bridge.  

"Maybe not," she said. "I have a plan."

Bucky flexed his metal arm and watched as the plates shifted. It felt strange-- _wrong_ \--, because he was accustomed to the arm only as the Winter Soldier, not as Bucky Barnes. His brows furrowed.

"Does that plan happen to include me?"

"I don't know yet," Ilona answered.

He had a feeling it did, but if there was one thing he'd learned, it was that he no longer had control over his life. He had long ago resigned himself to that fact. But if Ilona worked against the Soviets, and therefore against Hydra, Bucky supposed his life could be worse. He could be frozen in a cryochamber in Siberia, for example.

Instead he was himself again, after years as the Winter Soldier. There wasn't much that he remembered of himself or his past, but even his name was something. He studied Ilona's profile as she drove. It was because of her that he knew his name, that he had somehow stopped being the Winter Soldier and started being James Buchanan Barnes. She had touched his cheek and had spoken to him in Russian, then in English. Touch was important--organic touch, because he'd had his cybernetic hand around her neck, yet she had still reached out to touch him.

To test his theory, he placed his flesh hand over one of hers on the steering wheel. She looked at him sharply, almost glaring, and he quickly concocted an excuse for his seemingly random gesture.

"I've had my head between your thighs," said Bucky, with a half-smirk on his lips, "and I don't even know your name."

She hesitated for only an instant.

"Ilona."

"That's not your real name, is it?"

She shrugged. "Do I not look like an Ilona?"

"I don't know how an Ilona is supposed to look," he admitted. "I'm not exactly flush with memories right now."

"No, of course you aren't," she whispered, and if Bucky's hearing hadn't been enhanced by the serum, he wouldn't have heard her. A frown settled on her lips, and she was silent for so long that he opted to stare out the window instead.

They were driving up a hill in what Bucky could only describe as the suburbs, though he couldn't remember ever actually _seeing_ a suburb before. Multiple-family homes stood on both sides of the street, and interspersed between the houses were snowy fields and small copses of leafless trees. It would have been pretty in any other season, but winter had sapped the life from everything. Just like he did.

 He was so absorbed in replaying the heinous acts he'd committed, that he didn't notice the car had stopped, until he felt a light weight on his shoulder.

"Earth to Bucky," said Ilona, removing her hand when he looked at her. "You zoned out for a few minutes there."

"Yeah, sorry."

"You're fine," she assured him and led him towards a quaint, two-story house with blue shutters. Unlocking the door, Ilona waved him inside. "Shoes off, please."

Bucky arched a brow at her but complied, unlacing his heavy combat boots and toeing them off. He followed her further into the house, and while she moved about the kitchen, he examined his surroundings. There were no photographs anywhere, yet the living room felt far too homey and personal to be a safe house. Then again, he was accustomed to Hydra safe houses, which were basic at best. Ilona's employers obviously had resources if they could afford a new FSO Polonez, so maybe all their safe houses were like this one.

Her familiarity with its layout, however, suggested otherwise.

"This is your home, isn't it," he stated.

Ilona remained with her back to him, finishing the sandwiches she was making. When she moved to put the cold cuts back into the fridge, Bucky blocked her path.

"I'm a tad concerned about your sense," he said, his gaze flicking to her bruised throat. "You bring an assassin home who tried to suffocate you less than an hour ago? I mean, I think I've been called reckless before, but _this_ is just plain stupid."

"You nearly succeeded in suffocating me, too," she muttered and deftly side-stepped him. "This isn't my home, but it _is_ safe."

He crossed his arms over his chest, observing her with an amused expression.

"So, what, you broke into someone's house?"

"Did you see me pick a lock?" Without waiting for a response, she shoved a plate in his hand and took her own to the small table in the corner of the kitchen. "Look, I know what I'm doing, Bucky. Now sit and eat."

He sighed, still troubled by her apparent lack of self-preservational instinct, but obeyed and took a big bite of the sandwich. The flavor of the meat reminded him of something, but his frayed mind couldn't quite identify it. It was greasy and savory and just a little bit spicy. Something must have flashed across his face, because Ilona smiled at him.

"The cold cut is called _paprikás szalámi_ ," she informed him. "Do you like it?"

Taking another bite, he nodded.

Her smile widened. "It's my favorite."

And just like that--away from Hydra and with tasty food in his belly--, Bucky felt better than he could ever remember.

#

Early the next morning, Bucky encountered Ilona coming down the stairs, her stockinged feet making only the slightest noise on the wooden steps. She startled when she saw him sitting on the sofa in the living room.

"Couldn't sleep," he explained.

"Was the bed too hard?" she asked him. "Hungarian beds can be on the hard side."

He shook his head, his shoulder-length hair swishing in his face.

"Bed was fine. Mind wasn't."

Her expression turned sympathetic, and she walked over to him, placing her hand on his flesh-and-bone arm.

"I may be able to help with that," she said, "but it'll have to wait until I get back. I broke major protocol yesterday."

He studied her face, his experience as the Winter Soldier prompting him to search for an ulterior motive to her behavior.

"Why are you so intent on helping me?"

Ilona met his gaze, her green eyes burning with such conviction that Bucky had to fight the urge to look away.

"Because I despise the Soviets," she replied venomously. "They take something beautiful, like my country, and _destroy_ it." They stared at each other for a couple more seconds, before she sighed and slung her purse over her shoulder. "I'll be back later. Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge."

Once he heard the car's ignition rumble to life, Bucky leaned back against the couch cushions and closed his eyes. His future was unknown, but, in that moment, all he cared about was the past he couldn't remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's curious, Ilona's height is 5'6'' (168 cm). 
> 
> 1\. **FSO Polonez** is a Polish car built during the communist era (early 1980s). It was considered one of the better communist cars, so generally only wealthy or high-status people/organizations owned them. 
> 
> 2\. **Paprikás szalámi** is a Hungarian pork salami that literally means "paprika salami". It's even red from the paprika.


	4. Freedom?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ilona discusses Bucky's future with Mariana, after which she divulges a secret to Bucky. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few notes:
> 
> 1\. Thank you for the follows and kudos! They really do make my day. :)
> 
> 2\. I wouldn't classify myself as an espionage writer, so take those aspects with a grain of salt. I'm mostly going off actual communist politics/history and what I saw in _MI-5/Spooks_. 
> 
> 3\. When dialogue is in a foreign language (e.g., Hungarian), the characters continue speaking in it, unless otherwise stated (e.g., "...she said, in accented English"). And the characters will always speak in their native language, unless otherwise stated.

_I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know where I'm going. And I don't even know where I come from._ -"I'm a Mess" The Rasmus **  
**

Ilona had barely walked through the doors of the HCSA headquarters on Práter Street when Mariana flagged her down.

" _Na, végre megjelenik az elveszett ügynök_ ," she said, leading Ilona to her office on the second floor.

She closed the door and sat down at her desk. Ilona remained standing, despite Mariana's invitation to take the seat opposite hers.

" _Nem vesztem el_ ," Ilona replied flatly.

" _De nem is jelentkeztél tegnap este miután összefutottál a Tél Katonájával._ "

"I figured you would learn what happened when someone reported the building's ruined door to the police," Ilona said. "I wasn't exactly in the best shape to come in afterwards."

Mariana studied her with narrowed eyes, before she motioned for her to come closer.

" _Mutasd_."

Ilona unwrapped the scarf from around her neck, baring the black-and-blue, hand-shaped bruise to her superior. Mariana's features softened slightly as she gently touched the injury.

"Any more?"

"Just another bruise on my abdomen," Ilona said, twisting the scarf around her neck again. "That one hurts like a bitch, though."

Mariana watched the younger woman with an inscrutable expression. When she spoke, her tone was equally ambiguous.

"You didn't kill him."  

"He's an enhanced assassin with a metal arm that nearly crushed my spleen," Ilona countered dryly. " _You_ try to kill him."

"I distinctly remember telling you not to fail..."

"And I didn't," said Ilona. "I stopped him from assassinating Pozsgay, which, as I recall, was my mission."

Mariana's eyes flashed in warning. "Insubordination aside," she said, "yes, you completed your task, but then you let the Winter Soldier live. Where is he now, one of the safe houses?"

"Of course not," Ilona scoffed, "because then you'd send a hit team to finish him off. Or at least try to." She ignored her superior's exasperated sigh. "You read his file, too, Mariana. You know that he's been brainwashed by Hydra, that before he was recaptured, he was a good man who fought for the same thing we're fighting for. _Freedom_. After all he's endured, doesn't he deserve that?"

Mariana arched a thin brow, a corner of her mouth quirking in mild amusement. "You don't really expect me to sanction releasing a Hydra super soldier onto the streets of Budapest."

"Obviously not," Ilona replied, "but he's no longer under Hydra's _or_ the Soviets' control. Whatever brainwashing they did on him was apparently nullified when I broke his nose." Mariana shot her a skeptical look. Ilona shrugged and continued with the necessary lie. "I'm just going off what those reports said about how blows to the head can affect the brain."

"That must have been _quite_ the blow to break through decades of conditioning."

Ilona met Mariana's gaze. "Well, you know how much I like to kick men in the face." She smirked, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. "And in other places."

Mariana rolled her eyes. A shadow of a smile formed for half an instant, before she sobered.

"I know what you're asking of me," she said warily. "You want to turn the Winter Soldier."

"You can't deny that he would be an incredible asset to the HCSA," Ilona pointed out. "His training alone would give us an edge over the Soviets, not to mention that cybernetic arm."

"It's not a bad idea in theory," Mariana mused, "except that we would be revealing to Hydra and the Soviets just how much we know about their operations."

Ilona scowled in disgust. "So this is going to be another Coventry? We turn a blind eye to the victim for the sake of intel? We let Hydra have Barnes after he failed to kill his target?" Ilona crossed her arms over her chest, her scowl transforming into a frown. "You read his file. You know what they'll do to him."

"Hydra will put him on ice regardless of his success or failure here," Mariana replied, with a dismissive wave of her hand.

"Yes," agreed Ilona, "but if they know he failed his mission, they'll torture him first and _then_ wipe his memory. At least let them believe he succeeded."

"And what do you suggest I do, let him go to town on Pozsgay?" Mariana asked sarcastically.

"No," said Ilona. "Barnes wouldn't kill him now anyway. I'm suggesting we let the Soviets _think_ he killed Pozsgay. We fake his death and announce it to the media, while he continues to work under the radar."

"He can't be MP in secret."

"Yes, he can," Ilona insisted. "In all but name."

"Maybe, but what about his daily life? You're asking him to give up everything and become a ghost, all because you grew attached to a broken soldier."

Ignoring her superior's dig, Ilona forced herself to remain calm. "Look at it this way: If Pozsgay remains in the spotlight, the Soviets will just send more assassins. And if they're super soldiers, like Barnes, then our agents don't stand a chance."

"You managed somehow."

"Barely," said Ilona. "I got lucky. But we can't rely on luck. The Winter Soldier was faster and stronger than anyone I'd ever met. He dodged my bullets and ripped a two-and-a-half-meter-tall door from its hinges."

Mariana was silent, studying Ilona long enough to make the agent uneasy. Then, with a sigh, she asked, "Do you really think faking Pozsgay's death will work?"

Ilona shrugged. "There's only one way to find out."

"Very well. I will take it under advisement," Mariana relented. She rolled her eyes as Ilona smirked. "Now go clean up the mess you made."

#

Bucky was nowhere in sight when Ilona returned to the safe house. His boots were still by the door, so he obviously hadn't left. She breathed a sigh of relief. She'd half-expected him to be gone by the time she got back. The mug and dish in the drying rack showed he had eaten, but the rest of the house was untouched.

Pouring herself a glass of Riesling, she climbed the stairs to the second floor and was startled to find Bucky on the balcony, his muscular frame rigid and tall. She deliberately made more noise than she normally would have, and he tensed. For a split-second, Ilona thought he might have reverted back to the Winter Soldier, but then he relaxed.

She opened the door and stepped out beside him.

"Where are we?" he asked.

Ilona didn't respond right away, her sharp eyes scanning the barren landscape and snow-covered houses. She debated the wisdom of divulging too much information to a man who, until yesterday, had been in thrall to Soviet-sponsored Hydra. He had nearly killed her _twice_. It was only due to a miracle and her mutation that she hadn't died of internal bleeding or strangulation.

Yet, glancing at Barnes, at his sad eyes, Ilona instinctively trusted him. He was as much a victim as her own people were--perhaps even more so, because he was forced to commit horrors under the semblance of making the world a better place. Her hatred of the Nazis and Soviets now included Hydra, as well.

"We're in Törökbálint," she said finally. He looked at her, surprise evident on his face. She gave him a tight smile. "You trusted me last night, so now I'm returning the favor."

"Yeah, but you don't stand a chance if I suddenly try to kill you again."

Ilona took a sip of her wine. "I stopped you once, didn't I?"

"True," he acknowledged, his brows furrowing as he tried to recall the events from last night. "I had _this_ around your neck," he said, glaring down at his metal hand. "You put your palm on my cheek, and then it felt like someone had doused me with a bucket of warm water." Bucky looked at her again and gave her a pained smile. "I especially remember that last sensation, because it's the polar opposite of how I feel when Hydra puts me into cryosleep."

"Who ordered you to assassinate Pozsgay?"

Bucky snorted. "Hydra, of course," he said. "But the order came from the top of Soviet command, from a man named Yuri Andropov."

Her brows raised. "Andropov's the leader of the Soviet Union."

"Yeah, funny how I know _that_ but not my own mother's name," he spat, with a bitter laugh. "He was there when I came out of cryosleep, inspecting me as if I was a horse at auction."

"More like a slave at auction," she muttered. Ilona briefly met his curious eyes, before she drank the rest of her wine. "Andropov was also the one who convinced Khrushchev to crush Hungary's uprising in 1956. As a result, we fondly call him the 'Butcher of Budapest'."

"I remember that," he whispered, but Ilona knew what he really meant was _I was here for that_.

From Hydra's file on Bucky, she'd learned that the Winter Soldier was responsible for the death of one of the uprising's key leaders. She bore him no ill will, though, because the revolution would have failed anyway. It had failed before it had even begun, due to lies and betrayal.

"And what," she began, hesitating, "do you remember of your past?"

A shadow crossed his face that made his brows look dark and heavy.

"Pain. Death."

"No, I meant of _your_ past," said Ilona, "not the Winter Soldier's."

"Nothing." Then he frowned and stared up at the gray sky as snow flurries began to fall. "I'm sorry. I'm grateful for what you've done, helping me like this. I don't know _what_ you did last night, but I'm grateful."

Ilona shifted from one foot to the other, a chill creeping into her bones. Bucky, however, seemed content to watch the balcony's railing slowly become covered in snow. The super soldier serum had made him immune to the cold, as well as to infection and most illnesses, but she nevertheless touched his back and motioned towards the door.

"It's freezing. I'll explain everything inside."

He followed her downstairs and sat on the couch, watching her patiently as she perched cross-legged on the neighboring chair. Setting her empty wine glass on the coffee table, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Do you know who you are?"

"James Buchanan Barnes," he answered mechanically, "but everyone called me Bucky. I'm American, and I _think_ I was a soldier."

Her lips pursed. He merely parroted back to her what she'd told him yesterday.

"That's right," she affirmed, "but there's a lot more to you than that." She handed him a copy of the dossier from Hydra's Leipzig facility. The original was a mashup of German and Russian, but, anticipating this moment, Ilona had translated the German to English.

The more of his file Bucky read, the more agitated he became. His metal hand formed a fist, the plates shifting as they adjusted to the increased pressure on his fingers. Finally, after fifteen minutes of silence, Bucky placed the folder on the table and met Ilona's gaze.

"I remember."

She slid forward in the chair, resting her elbows on her knees.

"How much?"

"Bits and pieces." He mimicked her posture, his glance flicking to the dossier. "I remember being captured in Italy during the war, along with my unit, and I remember the tests. They injected me with a blue serum that hurt like _crazy_ , and then they left me alone, strapped to the exam table."

"So that was when you became the Winter Soldier?"

Bucky hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thought.

"I don't know," he said. "That was definitely when they made me into a super soldier, but things are hazy between then and the Wint-" he broke off, clenching his jaw, " _my_ first mission."

"It's okay to separate yourself from him," Ilona said gently.

"Is it?" snapped Bucky. "These hands are both the Winter Soldier's and my own, and they're the ones that did the killing."

"Yes, but you were programmed to be the Winter Soldier," she insisted. "It says something about your character that Hydra had to brainwash you into committing those acts."

Bucky softened, but he didn't look convinced.

"Maybe," he relented and rested his forehead on his arms. Tilting his head to face her, he asked, "How did you break through Hydra's programming anyway?"

Ilona laughed. "I kneed you in the head, remember?"

"Yeah, you did," he agreed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Although his advanced healing had taken over, the bone was still sore. "But that's not when it happened. It happened when you touched my cheek."

She held his gaze, her expression inscrutable, but the subtle tensing of her body betrayed her discomfort. Most people would never have noticed it, but Bucky's senses were heightened. He arched an eyebrow, waiting for her answer.

Ilona sighed. "Have you ever heard of Mutants?"

"Uh, yes?"

"I don't mean dwarfism or disfigurements," she clarified. "I mean humans with extraordinary abilities, like yours, except these are innate."

Bucky stared at her, a mixture of astonishment and disbelief on his face.

"So you're a Mutant?" Ilona nodded. "And your special ability is to stop the effects of brainwashing?"

"Something like that," she hedged.

"Do your superiors know what you can do?"

Ilona averted her gaze. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because it's...personal," she replied.

"So you tell the brainwashed assassin that almost killed you?"

 Her lips twitched. "Naturally."

Bucky slowly shook his head as a genuine laugh rose from his chest.

"You are somethin' else, you know that?"

"So people have told me," said Ilona. She allowed the humor to suffuse the room for another minute, before she sobered. "I tried to convince my superior to protect you, but she refused."

He nodded, disappointed but not surprised.

"I wouldn't protect me either."

" _But_ ," said Ilona, his sad and resigned tone pulling at her heart, "there may be a way for you to avoid a fallout with Hydra."

"And what's that?" he asked. "You hide me here indefinitely?"

She shrugged. "Maybe."

"Hydra won't just let me go," he pointed out. "In fact, I'm sure my handler is already wondering where I am. I can't stay here, no matter how much I would like to."

"I know," she said softly. "And that's why I have a plan that I _think_ my superior will approve. But I can't tell you yet, because-"

"Because I could tell it to Hydra," Bucky interjected. Ilona didn't confirm or deny his assertion, but she didn't need to. Her eyes gave her away. "You're smart to be cautious. I would be, too, if I were in your shoes."

"You could run," she suggested, though she knew as well as he that it would be futile. Hydra would search for him and eventually find him.

"Not today," he said, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "But maybe someday. And if I still remember you, I'll come say hi."

And that was it. There was nothing more to be discussed. Bucky would return to Hydra, because if he didn't, the Soviets would suspect the truth and would punish Hungary. Ilona hated the injustice of it, hated that, despite all the HCSA's resources, she could not help Bucky. So she went to the market, cooked him a hearty Hungarian meal, and listened as he tried to put together the pieces of his broken memory. 

That night, after reports of Imre Pozsgay's death hit the news, Ilona knocked on the door of the spare bedroom, with a blanket draped over her arm.

When Bucky saw what she was carrying, he arched an eyebrow.

"I don't need that. Super soldier, remember?"

"Humor me," she said, rolling her eyes. She draped the blanket over his form, but partway-through, Bucky's flesh hand gripped hers.

"I didn't kill Pozsgay."

"Well, someone did."

Bucky squeezed her hand, forcing her to look at him.

"Your reaction to the news was convincing," he said, "but I'm not stupid. If his death were real, you'd have been called in." He paused, waiting for her to say something. When she didn't, he continued. "You didn't come here to offer me a blanket you know I don't need."

Ilona shook her head and placed her palm on his cheek. He remained relaxed, allowing the contact and even pressing into it.

"There's more to your ability than you told me," he said. Ilona's eyes widened in the first hint of fear he'd seen since he had met her. He squeezed her hand again. "But you're clearly keeping it secret for a reason, so I won't ask. Just make it quick."

She nodded, swallowing thickly, and recited the words she had rehearsed.

"You are the Winter Soldier, not James Buchanan Barnes. You assassinated Imre Pozsgay on his way home from work at 22:52 on the twenty-third of January, 1983. You successfully completed your mission and returned to your handler, after taking refuge with a Hungarian Hydra agent named Ilona Szilágyi. You will not remember any of this until you are questioned by Hydra."

Once Ilona's palm left his cheek, Bucky blinked up at her, seemingly unchanged.

"What did you do?"

She gave him a sad smile. "I've ensured our safety."

The next morning, Bucky was gone. A note rested on the floor outside Ilona's bedroom door.

_Ilona,_

_If we ever meet again and I've forgotten your kindness, just knee me in the face again._

_JBB_

Unbeknownst to either of them, that day would never come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. **Na, végre megjelenik az elveszett ügynök** is Hungarian for "So, the missing agent finally returns."
> 
> 2\. **Nem vesztem el** is Hungarian for "I wasn't lost."
> 
> 3\. **De nem is jelentkeztél tegnap este miután összefutottál a Tél Katonájával** is Hungarian for "But you didn't check-in last night after your run-in with the Winter Soldier either."
> 
> 4\. **Mutasd** is Hungarian for "Show me."
> 
> 5\. **Törökbálint** is a small town in Pest county on the Buda side (the hilly side) of Budapest. 
> 
> 6\. **Yuri Andropov** was really who Ilona said he was. I obviously embellished with his connection to Hydra and Imre Pozsgay.


End file.
